Deep withinside our new favourite member’s club…

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We’ve been slightly giddy about Paramount for quite some time, s’true, and we had a wee sneak peek during Big London Fashion Week last month, but now the latest and highest and something else-est member’s club to hit the capital has had its final spit ‘n’ polish and is in full working action, as they say in certain circles. And this is what it looks like from deep withinside.

Tom Dixon – who knows a thing or dozen about fancy interior design. Because he’s an interior designer of jolly good repute – is behind look ‘n’ feel, and the views are frankly cheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeenius, what with its position at the top of London’s glittering Centre Point at London’s not-so-glittering/dumpy junction of the TCR (Tottenham Court Road) and Oxford Street. Incidentally, they’re supposed to be sorting that out and making it pretty and stuff, but since Boris ‘Cunty’ Johnson came in you can’t rely on anything. We digress.

The club’s hot, the views are shit hot, and if you want to be a member, you’ve got to be shitty shit hot, at least at writing clever application forms full of bons mots – Stephen Fry’s on the panel reviewing entries, see. 

Ooh, it’s like Paramount Factor…

*you remind me of a young Diana Ross*

More pics after the break.

Take a pew...

All shiny and new

Fancy your chances…?

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5 comments to “Deep withinside our new favourite member’s club…”

  1. Centre Point? Not sexy, honey.

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  2. I have many fondled memories of working in Centrepoint Tower. Literally, I used to get felt up by Paul, a rather cheeky chappy who worked on the 10th floor, to my 11th. We used to rendevous in the stairwell. Good times.

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  3. Oh Tequilla, I’m v jealous. There is no-one by whom I would like to be felt up in my building. Well there’s one, but we’ve been there, done then, send the round-robin…

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  4. I’m telling you Lulu, we stayed in the stairwell until the job was done……My office situation has changed dramatically though, and there is not a single person here I would like to take a trip to the stairwell with. Well, there is one. His name is Dick. Just, Dick.

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  5. Tequilla, we both have very fondled memories of that place. Like the day you interviewed me. I was wearing an ill-fitting suit and smelt of wine. You may have hired me, but we were soon both made redundant. Perhaps for commenting on sites such as this one. Oh.

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